Dance With Me
by mikachoo
Summary: Together they danced. Jate. Short abstract fic I wrote a while back, please review. Rated M for language and strong adult themes.
1. Dance With Me

**This is just a short fic I wrote a while back. It's very very abstract**, **and in all honesty I think the metaphor's gone too far, but I've been told its fine so I'm leaving it. Rated M for language and sexuality. Hope you like it, please review!**

**_Disclaimer: I don't own anything._**

Destined to be together it seemed.

Yet fated to live apart.

He saw her every day. He spoke to her, laughed with her, but she wasn't properly there. On a different level to him. He didn't put her there; she did.

She fascinated him. What she did to him intrigued him. He revelled in her, and yet, sometimes she repulsed him. She could be so impossibly…belligerent. Fiercely independent, sometimes at her own expense.

He couldn't understand her. She lured him into a web so deep he could only see what was in front of him. And that was always her. She made sure of that. He loved her. He hated her. Loved. Hated. Love. Hate.

A dance that they followed tirelessly. In. Out. It became a reflex, like breathing. A suggestive glance; the pace quickened. They moved faster and faster until one of them stumbled…and they slowed. Sometimes to a halt. But there would always come a time when they would again start the intricate dance of flirting and falling, flirting and falling. Until one of them fell too far. Halt. And it started again…

The shower…they danced faster and faster, closer and closer, perfectly in time. But of course, they reached breaking point. But she faltered. Fell out of step. A mistake that nearly cost them their dance. She kissed him; she fell. But she didn't fall alone. He fell with her.

They always fell alone.


	2. In The Net

They were barely moving. Slow…so slow. The conversations that had carried them through their dance had dwindled to a few words. Barely a sentence to each other. Barely a step closer.

And that night…that fateful night in the jungle…they separated. Left each other's arms, halted their dance entirely. To run.

They both danced with another partner now. Sawyer. Ana. New rhythms to follow, new steps to learn. They followed. They learnt. Because they knew that might slow their return to each other, something they both knew was inevitable. Something they both wanted. Something they both dreaded. But something they both needed.

Struggling, they fought against it. Clinging to the arms of another, they fought. But it was like fighting against a current. No matter how gently you struggle, you tire. A current never tires. And when they tired, they slipped. And the current took them.

Crash. They collided. In a net; on a dancefloor. Pressed against each other, they struggled; they danced.

They needed no music. They danced to the rhythm of their racing hearts.

His body against hers. His hand on her waist. His face on hers, their lips brushing…

Bang. The shot of a gun. And once again, they fell…

"What did you say before?" He stepped out of the net, having finally disentangled himself from it. She was standing in front of him, re-adjusting her ruffled clothes. She let go of her hair, the band sliding off her fingers and settling itself in a tight coil around her unruly mass of curls.

"What?" She said through a breath, settling her hand on her hip.

"In the net, before."

"Oh." She turned her head away slightly, her eyes darting over the net on the ground. He waited patiently, as he always did for her. Fixing took time. And he was going to fix her.

Her startling green eyes flicked up to him, shining unusually brightly.

"I'm not sorry"

He watched her eyes, seeing them fill slowly with longing desire. He wasn't sure if they were her eyes, or just a reflection of his own.

The space between them suddenly seemed too far, he had to hold her; he had to…

Their lips met as they spun around, again and again, neither getting dizzy by the new thrills they were feeling. Around and around, again and again. Perfectly in time, they danced together. He held her close, his hand behind her head, the other around her waist. Arms around his neck, she rested her forehead against his as they danced.


	3. Jungle Tryst

Wham. He pushed her up against a tree. But if it hurt, she didn't feel it. All she felt, was him. Her senses were unusually heightened to his touch, his smell, his taste. The feeling of his hands on her waist drove her crazy, as if his hands were on fire. Because sure enough they burned her. But the fire did not burn of heat. It burned of passion.

She tore at the fly on his jeans, identifying it as the only thing standing between her and Jack. With equal fury he unzipped hers. And before either of them could draw a breath, he was in her. She gasped, her hands under his shirt pushing harder on his back, pushing him deeper into her.

His kisses left her burning, her lips, her cheek, her neck. Her head couldn't process anything more than Jack. Blood was trickling down her arm, presumably from a cut on her shoulder. But she couldn't feel it. And for once, Jack didn't become the doctor. For once he didn't try to fix her . He didn't care. He knew she couldn't feel it, knew that she, like him, was thinking of nothing but that moment.

It started to rain above them, the clear sky suddenly grey and hard, cold drops drenching them instantly. The tree provided little shelter, rain ripping through the leaves like bullets through air.

But again, they didn't care. The icy water replaced the sweat on their bodies, but the fire radiating from them had soon heated it against their skin. He tore his lips from hers, moving his head back slightly so he could meet her gaze. She was ready. He could see it in her eyes. He began to move, pushing her a little further up the tree each time. She tipped her head to the side, her eyes closed and her mouth open and her breath coming in ragged gasps every time he touched her. He watched her, savouring her expression of ecstasy as he drove her closer and closer to the edge.

He loved that she was like this. He loved that it was he that was making her eyes flutter open and close every time he moved, that it was he who was causing her to breathe irregularly and moan in his ear. That it was he who was now the only thing she was thinking about.

His hands were underneath her shirt, rubbing across her toned stomach. She grabbed his hands in hers and pulled them up to her breasts, sliding them beneath her bra and pushing them against her.

His own pleasure came in pleasuring Kate. She was all he wanted; all he needed. She was his world. He leaned forward again and gently caressed her tongue with his own, almost coming as she moaned in his mouth. Not without her…

"Kate" he whispered against her lips, her soft sweet lips. "Are you…"

She nodded her head, breathing in heavily and squeezing her eyes tightly closed. His hands had slipped across her wet skin down to her waist, and he was gripping her hips tightly. Almost as an afterthought she removed her hands from beneath his shirt, bringing them up to his face. Looking into his eyes, she mouthed three words that Jack had waited forever to hear. They seemed even more perfect when he saw them on her lips. Closing his eyes, he leaned his mouth on her forehead, whispering them back. He'd never meant anything more in his life.

And then they came. Together, with her hands fisted in his shirt and his gripping her waist tightly, the sweat and rain running off them.

He opened his eyes, staring into her beautiful face. Almost reluctantly he pulled away from her, feeling incomplete when she was no longer surrounding him. He zipped himself up, as did she. But she still hadn't opened her eyes.

Breathing in shakily, her eyes finally fluttered open. When they met his, he was horrified to see the terror in them. Before he could tighten his grip on her she had sprung away, recoiling in confusion from what just happened. Giving him one last look, she turned on her heel and ran away into the trees, leaving him standing and staring after her.

He felt sick. It was the kiss, all over again. She'd run away…again. Whatever he had expected it wasn't this. He hated her. He hated her, for running from him. He hated her because she ran from him when he loved her. Slowly cracking, he began to cry. He loved her, and he felt as if she had just thrown everything he'd ever given her back in his face. Had what had just happened meant nothing to her? Was it just another mistake, like the kiss so obviously was? Just another fuck-up from a fucked-up criminal. The sound of a twig breaking caused him to look up, and his fury disappeared, suddenly non-existent.

Because walking back to him through the trees was Kate. Through the rain he was blind to her tears, but he could feel them. White and shaking, she walked forward slowly, her soaking wet clothes clinging to her body. Her body that only minutes before had been shuddering with pleasure. Pleasure that he had given her. There was blood now all over her right arm, but he barely noticed. He was too preoccupied with her.

She stood before him, staring up into his eyes fearfully. But defiant. Almost as if she was saying 'I didn't run away. I'm here now. I came back.' Feeling as if his heart would burst he grabbed her, pulling her to him so hard he almost feared she would break. She looked so delicate, so fragile. Lifting her up he buried his head in her chest, eventually lowering her so that he could kiss her.

Of all the kisses they had shared, that was the most important. He had fixed her. She'd come back to him, because he'd fixed her. But it was more than what had happened with Sarah. He loved her. His existence depended on Kate, and he knew that he'd never leave her. If he had to break her out of fucking prison, one day, he knew he'd do it without hesitation. But he knew she wouldn't leave him. He'd fixed her; and now she didn't have to run away. They belonged together.


	4. Twilight

The sun had just set. It was almost dark, and the moon shone brightly against the stark grey sky. She was standing on the beach, her feet buried in the sand, watching the waves come in. It was so peaceful…tranquil. She didn't know he was there until she felt him kissing her softly on the back of her neck.

"Jack" She was smiling.

"Mmm?" He didn't stop, instead he wrapped his arms around her so that they were crossed over hers on her stomach.

She tilted her head back, slightly to the side, waiting for him to kiss her. He took his time, trailing his kisses up her neck, across her chin until he finally reached her lips.

"Dance with me" he murmured.

She smiled against his lips.

"Okay" she whispered back.

He turned her around slowly, so that she was facing him, but left his hands around her waist. She in turn put her hands on his shoulders, then stepped forward so that their bodies were pressed together. They started to move, dancing slowly on the sand. She lowered her head onto his shoulder and closed her eyes.

Everything was so perfect. She was here, with Jack, on this secluded beach with no one to bother them. But she was quite content just to dance with him. After yesterday, she was still satisfied. All she wanted right now was to be with Jack, away from the camp, away from his duties as a doctor and away from all the distractions, chiefly Sawyer.

They slowed, until eventually they weren't dancing but just standing, wrapped up each in other, soaking in the other's presence. She didn't want to move. She didn't want to leave that moment. It was so perfect, so beautiful.

She didn't want to go back to camp. She wanted to stay here with Jack, all night. And dance again, in the moonlight. Just dance.

_Finis_


End file.
